This sort of environment was not one that Zaeed was used to. Infiltration missions weren’t his strong suit; he tended to enjoy a nice strong forward attack. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and he was getting paid damn well to wear this stuffy suit.

He was here to find some political pawn. He didn’t ask much about it; his job was to shoot who he was pointed to shoot. Then he gets paid and disappears before he had to deal with consequences.

Of course, this one came with a bit more... elegance. He was getting paid to infiltrate the party, separate the target to a private room, and the rest was up to his current employers. He didn’t care what happened from then, so long as he got paid.

He wasn’t usually the first choice for these sorts of missions -- his scarred face made him pretty easy to recognize. Even without the scar, his ever-present scowl intimidated people. Luckily for him, this was a masquerade party, and the majority of his face was covered in a mask. He’d be glad to get out of this damn suit though. It felt... unprotected. Even with the small pistol tucked in his pant leg.